Just like we did
by i-hate-beeky
Summary: COMPLETELY AU. It's actually just a story I wrote about my life. Should I continue or not? You tell me. It's a letter that will not be sent from Joey to Dawson


A/N: Okay, well, this story is completely AU and I'm not even sure what would have happened to get to this point. But anyway, let's say that Dawson and Joey WERE good friends, and then they went out, and then Dawson and Joey started hating each other a lot, and some friends (Jen, Andie) were on Dawson's side and some (Pacey, Jack) were on Joey's side. So this is pretty much a letter written to Dawson that Joey has no intention of sending. I didn't really make up this story with this summary in mind, actually it wasn't meant to be a story at all, it's pretty much just my feelings about my ex. Anyway, hope you like it, and if not, that's okay. This story may end here, but I may continue it, flashing back inbetween Joey and Dawson's lives, and if I do continue it, it will eventually become a P/J.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or anything to do with Dawson's Creek. All I own is this story.

For a while there, I really thought it would work. It was you, and me, and our friends, and everything was perfect. You'd come over, and we'd be completely insane, but everything was perfect, so nothing mattered. We'd take walks, and you'd joke that I looked like a cheap hooker. When we'd go to movies, it was like no one else was there, and we'd sit there pretending to fight over something just so we were able to touch each other without it seeming weird. We would call each other at ungodly hours of the night and talk until one of us fell asleep…usually you. We'd get in trouble from our parents, and we weren't everyone's favourite people, but we had each other. Then early December came, and everything shifted. We started getting closer, and there was that one night when I feared we got too close. That one night when it was you and me on the phone, talking about our life and crying, talking about suicide, and cutting, and how we were both so scared. We talked about your cutting and my cutting, and why we both did it. We talked about nooses and guns and the worst, and the best, ways to kill yourself. That night hurt like fucking hell. But life continued on as usual, and it was never really mentioned again. As December continued, life shifted yet again, and this time it was big. We found out we may or may not have feelings for each other. You knew before that night that you did, but I didn't realize it until that Christmas night at 3:00 in the morning. So we got together…kind of…and we were happy. We did everything together, and that's when the rumours started. People told us it would never work, and I think deep down we knew that too. Not only did we fight constantly, but we were off and on or all 6 months that this went on. 2 weeks on, one week off, for six fucking months. Eventually we ended, for the last time. I'm not sure how it happened, and I'm not sure we actually knew that it was the end. We completely stopped talking and started hating each other. Some of our friends sided with you, some with me. We didn't talk for such a long time, and the last time I talked to you we made a deal. You didn't tell people stuff about me, and vice versa. I haven't talked to you in a long time now, but we'll talk again. In 15 years, when we've been apart for such a long time, we'll meet in a crowded bar, we'll accidentally bump into each other, turn around angrily, and stare for a second. We'll barely whisper a "hello", and make polite conversation, like nothing ever happened. I'll say you look great, you'll return the compliment. I'll say it's been a long time, you'll ask if I want to talk outside because of how loud it's getting. We'll walk outside awkwardly and you'll ask me what's been happening in my life. I'll tell you about my job and my boyfriend, and you'll make fun of me because I never could really commit to anything. You'll tell me about your job, and how you just broke up with your girlfriend of two years. We'll be catching up so we'll go in to the restaurant next door. We'll talk until the wee hours of the morning, exchange numbers, and politely say it was nice to see each other again, and to take care. We'll go back to our lives, of course never using the recently received numbers, and forget about each other, just like we did. Or so we'll tell people…just like we did.


End file.
